You Can't Take Me
by Damon Lowe
Summary: Timothy Lioson wants all mutants dead. He and his army of mutant hunters trace the elusive Foxfire to New York. Before Lioson can use Foxfire's powers to destroy mutantkind, the X-Men are asked to stop him. But the old man might be more than they expected
1. Get Off My Back

". . . The plaintiffs contend that segregated public schools are not 'equal' and cannot be made 'equal' and that hence they are deprived of the equal protection of the laws. Because of the obvious importance of the question presented, the Court took jurisdiction.  
  
"Our decision, therefore, cannot turn on merely a comparison of these tangible factors in the Negro and white schools involved in each of the cases. We must look instead to the effect of segregation itself on public education.  
  
"In approaching this problem, we cannot turn the clock back to 1868 when the Amendment was adopted, or even to 1869 when Plessy vs. Ferguson was written. We must consider public education in the light of its full development and its present place in American life throughout the Nation. Only in this way can it be determined if segregation deprives these plaintiffs of the equal protection of the laws.  
  
"Today, education is perhaps the most important function of state and local governments. Compulsory school attendance laws and the great expenditures for education both demonstrate our recognition of the importance of education to our democratic society. . . In these days, it is doubtful that any child may reasonably be expected to succeed in life if he is denied the opportunity of an education. Such an opportunity, where the state has undertaken to provide it, is a right which must be made available to all on equal terms.  
  
"We come then to the question presented: Does segregation of children in public schools solely on the basis of race, even though the physical facilities and other 'tangible' factors may be equal, deprive the children of the minority group of equal educational opportunities? We believe that it does.  
  
". . . We conclude that in the field of public education the doctrine of 'separate but equal' has no place. Separate educational facilities are inherently unequal. Therefore, we hold that the plaintiffs and others similarly situated for whom the actions have been brought are, by reason of the segregation complained of, deprived of the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amendment. . ."  
  
--Brown vs. Board of Education, May 17, 1954  
  
It should have been resolved 49 years ago, but apparently the theory of educational segregation doesn't die so easily. On the evening of October 9, 2003, the Board of Education was meeting once again to decide the fate of segregation in schools. This time was different. The African Americans weren't the target; it was the mutants whose fate was being decided.  
  
Indiana was, by state standard and several citizens' personal opinions, run by a horde of conservative Baptists bent on perfection. Anything imperfect was kicked to the curb. And I mean, literally, ^anything^. From fireworks to magazines, you name it, it was banned or censored.  
  
The man fighting the Board's attempts was known to the locals as Leonard Kasch, or Leo for short. Kasch himself was a mutant, and an infamous one if you dared to dig up his past, which he kept unreasonably hidden. He was backed by an army of lawyers, doctors, and war veterans. But the bulk of his "army" were thieves, pirates, computer hackers, and ex-spies. Everything was so beautifully imperfect.  
  
Kasch didn't like to lose, and he'd play dirty, if that's what it meant for him to win over the Board. So he'd use espionage and sabotage.  
  
His inside agent was known by many names: Brittany Randall (her legal name), Zelda Lorelei (a German name meaning "Gray Warrior from the Rhine River"), Jayvyn Karimah (an African name meaning, backwards, "Generous Light Spirit"), Destry Marlon (a French name meaning "War Horse and Little Hawk"), and the list went on. But her most famous name was Shawnessy Gunning, an Irish name chosen for her specifically for her blood and lineage, which was mostly Irish. Different people called her by different names, depending on where they were from.  
  
Shawnessy was sent into the school after her "disappearance" one week prior. In all actuality, Shawnessy had merely given up on the whole bloody issue and dropped out, knowing full well that the school would never give her a high school diploma anyway. She snuck around the west side, so as to avoid meeting any of her old friends before she wanted to.  
  
Shawnessy's codename was Foxfire. Her mutation has given her. . . fox like abilities: enhanced sight, smell, and hearing, and increased speed and jumping. But, to bring on the torture, her mutation wasn't merely internal. Her long, fluffy, red and white tail and black-tipped fox ears were a dead giveaway.  
  
As Shawnessy approached the end of a particular row of lockers, which included Lexxie's, Hershey's, Kayso's, and Kelso's, not to mention her own, she felt lucky that Kayso happened to have her locker opened, and was now digging through it for a math paper that she'd lost that was apparently due that day.  
  
'Damn,' thought Shawnessy. 'It's Thursday, ain't it? Yay-rah. . . Algebra with the Blair Witch.' The "Blair Witch" was the name given to the students' Math teacher, Mrs. Blair, because she was such a witch. And Thursday meant that Shawnessy and part of her old gang had the Witch for an entire hour and a half that morning.  
  
Miraculously, Shawnessy remembered her locker combination, and angrily wrenched open the thin, metal door. The noise of the metal wobbling brought Kayso out of her locker.  
  
"Shawnessy! You're back! Where were you?"  
  
Shawnessy glared at Kayso out of the corner of her eye and growled sarcastically, "Getting knocked up by my boyfriend!" Kayso's eyes grew wide. "Naw, seriously? Dude, lighten up. I dropped out. I'm here on a mission, and therefore have no need to actually pay attention in Algebra." She carelessly dropped her book in her backpack. "And besides, I broke up with my boyfriend."  
  
Kayso calmed down a little. "Why?"  
  
" 'Cause now I got three guys livin' in my house with me, and Beau got pissy with me about th' looks th' two news guys was givin' me. T'ain't my fault, but he's got issues like that."  
  
"No, I mean, why'd you drop out?"  
  
Shawnessy sighed. "There ain't no use in even tryin'. They gonna segregate th' schools, Kayso, which means mutants ain't gonna get any sorta education that could get us outta this flea-infested rat-hole of a town. Na', don' get me wrong: Avon's great an' all. But there's gotta be somethin' better out there. There's somethin' beyond th' state lines, an' I'm gonna find out 'xactly what ^is^ out there. Without no education, if that's what it takes."  
  
"How do you plan to get anywhere without a job to pay for everything?"  
  
"Oh, I gotta job. I'm a pirate, Kayso. I'm gonna make a livin' offa other folks. That's what I'm good at. An' that's what I'm gonna do. Me an' th' boys. . . we gonna live. No job, no rules. . . and damned if I waste my time learnin' crap I ain't never gonna use again."  
  
"I think you should stay in school," Kayso said quietly.  
  
"Are you implyin' that I'm stupid?" Shawnessy laid her ears back.  
  
"No! Remember: you're smarter than me! You're in ACE!"  
  
"Smarter'n ya, eh? Then why do ye enunciate every friggin' word, huh?"  
  
"Because I don't want to ^sound^ stupid, like you do."  
  
"You ain't worth talkin' to no more," Shawnessy hissed, shoving her face in Kayso's. She stepped back, slung her backpack over her shoulder, slammed her locker door closed, and stomped off to Algebra class, hoping she didn't have to talk to Lexxie for the rest of the day. Lexxie would give her the same lecture.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Throughout the day, Shawnessy had received reproving glares from many of her more proper friends, congratulations from her rebellious friends, and lectures from her teachers.  
  
"You disappear for a week, and have the nerve to come back without all your homework done!?" was the question from Blair. "Didn't you call Homework Hotline?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you ask any of your friends?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did any of your friends bring the homework to you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then I don't want any excuses!"  
  
"I didn't give any. You're th' one screamin'."  
  
Blair's eyes went wide and round, as if she were saying, "How dare you speak to me that way! You are just a child, and therefore I am better than you!" But instead she asked, "Where were you and what were you doing while you were gone?"  
  
"I was at home. An' I don' think you wanna know what I was doin'." There were a few muffled sniggers around the classroom.  
  
"Quiet!" snapped the Witch. "Why didn't you're parents do anything?"  
  
"With all due respect, which ain't a whole lot: my folks are dead. But, if yer talkin' about th' adults who're supposed to be watchin' out fer me, well, th' guys couldn't really care less."  
  
" 'The guys' ?"  
  
"Yeah. There're three guys livin' at my house. There's Beau and his friend from New Orleans, an' then there's Toynbee. We fished him outta the Hudson River in New York a while back."  
  
Blair was obviously not amused. "How old are these men?"  
  
"Uhm, I'd reckon Beau and his buddy, Remy, are early twenties. An' Toynbee's pro'ly mid-twenties."  
  
"And these men are ^raising^ you?" Blair's eyebrows practically disappeared in her bangs.  
  
"Non. They're just sorta. . . there. They don' serve much of a purpose. Just. . . existin'." Shawnessy fought to remain calm, and to keep a straight face. Blair's expression was now somewhere between shock, anger, and disgust. It was incredibly comical, but nobody dared to laugh.  
  
"Do you find this funny, Randall?"  
  
Shawnessy looked Blair square in the eye, her face straight and solemn, and said, "Yes I do."  
  
"Alright then! Detention tomorrow and a Saturday school this weekend!"  
  
"Oh, I cain't come ^this^ weekend. The boys an' me, we goin' to NYC fer vacation. How 'bout a week from. . . never?"  
  
Blair's eyes were blazing with anger, but there was nothing she could do. She'd done her worst, but it wasn't good enough. Never before had a student gone this far. But, then again, those students had parents who kept them in line.  
  
"Lady, I don' like school. I don' like sittin' on these hard 'chairs' and listenin' t' you an' the others ramble on about God knows what! Half the crap you teachin' us now we ain't never gonna use in real life. We don' ^need^ school. I'ss a health hazard, man! We get all stressed an' end up sick, then ya'll got the nerve to tell us off? I don' think so. Not no more. I quit. End of story." Shawnessy stood up abruptly, stuffed her binder into her backpack, and stormed out of the classroom without another word. Forget the damned mission! There was no point in sending the mutants to any school not meant specifically for them! It would never do them any good.  
  
The remainder of the class stared at Blair, who stood, speechless and frozen with fury. "^Back to work^!" she screeched, stomping out of the room herself and heading towards the office.  
  
Meanwhile, Shawnessy had grabbed everything she wanted that would fit in her backpack--which was quite a lot--and snuck into an empty classroom. Many of the classrooms had little holes in the wall--squares about four square feet--that supposedly let straight up to the roof, and were never closed off or locked. Climbing up through one of these, Shawnessy crawled up to the roof, and leapt off into the front parking lot, just out of sight of those in the front office. Keeping close to the edge of the road, she made her way east, back towards her house, where the boys would be waiting. To hell with the School Board! They were getting a jumpstart on their trip to New York City!  
  
Across US 36 and winding through the neighborhood took a good half-hour / forty-five minutes. But Shawnessy was still fuming for some reason, even as she angrily punched in the code to open the garage door. She slammed the storm door open and completely forgot to close the regular door.  
  
"What are you doin' back, cherie?" called a young man from the computer room, which was on the other side of the wall separating the kitchen and meant-to-be dining room. In the wall was a window through which anyone on the computer could watch the garage door and kitchen.  
  
"Screw th' mission!" screeched Shawnessy.  
  
"Awright," replied the man. The young man was Beauregard Raven-Le Papillon, Shawnessy's ex-boyfriend from New Orleans.  
  
Lounged in the living room was a mutant a little older than Beau. A mutant that should've been dead. Mortimer Toynbee had been supposedly electrocuted then dumped into the Hudson River the night of the Ellis Island incident. Beau and Shawnessy had fished him out of the river the next morning.  
  
"Tell me, Toad," Shawnessy began, coming round the column in the center of the house that supported the staircase into the living room, "where's Remy?"  
  
"Out." Mortimer didn't even take his eyes off the television.  
  
"Oh yer so useful," Shawnessy spat sarcastically.  
  
"But you love me anyways."  
  
"Not now, I don't!" She jumped up the stairs two at a time, nearly missing one and falling right back down. Everything was getting back to normal already!  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
I think it's short. I can't tell. I have it on Text formatting. Oh well.  
  
Next chapter: Shawnessy and the boys take on NYC!  
  
Notes:  
  
1. I have changed my friends' names for their protection. I have not, however, changed my Algebra teacher's name, because I hate her and don't give a rat's ass one way or the other!  
  
2. "ACE" is the title given to kids who are put in advanced classes. It is also what the advanced classes themselves are called.  
  
3. Thanks to Harcourt-Brace Publishing Company for the "Brown vs. Board of Education" article.  
  
4. Thanks to http://www.babynameworld.com for their help in finding all of Shawnessy's different names.  
  
5. I do not own X-Men. Marvel© does. I own all originals, like Beau, Shawnessy, Leonard Kasch, and all my friends. (No, I don't actually ^own^ my friends. :p)  
  
6. This ^...^ stands for italics.  
  
Review please. It would be greatly appreciated! 


	2. Old Memories Seldom Fade

I know, it takes me forever to update anything. My bad. Anyway: on with the show!  
  
AHCD (now known as Elu): That sounded soooo gay, hon. o.0; ::sigh:: As stated, I now have a name: Elu. And I am now a plushie. Oh yay-rah. And as also previously stated: Damon does not own X-Men. Der. . .  
  
Yesssss. You are now a plushie! Mwahahaha! (I bought a horse plushie in Washington, DC, and I named it Elu and said it was the Almighty Horsey Calendar of Doom incarnate. Eh, works for me. 0.0 Wow, Oprah just said people are stupid and they frustrate her. What's this world coming to!?  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
A quick, three-hour plane ride--first class, of course--and Shawnessy and her gang had landed New York City. At the last minute, Shawnessy had dragged in several extras to go on this trip: another, should-be-dead mutant named Jean Grey, called Phoenix by several of Shawnessy's other "henchmen"; Matilda, who had actually been kidnapped in order to bring her on the trip; and KT, also kidnapped, as were Katie, Lexxie, and Sar. The police would have a field day with Kasch's Angels when they got back home.  
  
The Steel Angels, or more commonly called Kasch's Angels--as if to compare the mutant syndicate to Charlie's Angels--were an army of no less than three hundred mutants worldwide who fought, physically and politically, against anyone who believed mutants to be "evil." The Angels often went to the extent of kidnap and murder, more of the latter and less of the former. Ere the Alkali Lake incident, subsequent to which Dr. Grey had been found, the Angels had made little progress. But, thanks to the destruction of the dam, and the evidence which proved Stryker had been behind the whole operation underneath the dam itself, gave the Angels a step up, which also gave them an advantage they hadn't had before: mutants are often the victims, and they don't ^always^ lie about their persecution. The Angels had been known to make up stories which were later proved to be so blatantly untrue, the officials discredited anything actually truthful the Angels might have said prior.  
  
Shawnessy had been to New York only once before, and that had happened about nine months prior. Shawnessy's memory was pretty much shot, and she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast that morning, let alone something that happened nine months ago! She could always recall stupid, unimportant things like Kyle Boone driving his riding lawnmower into a hole he dug in his backyard. But, she could never remember anything "important," like what she learned in school. She retained the information, just don't expect her to tell you what she learned in school on any particular day, because damned if she cared enough to remember.  
  
The group, which consisted of Shawnessy, Beau, Remy, Mortimer, Jean, Matilda, KT, Katie, Sar, and Lexxie, had booked five rooms at the Biltmore, and then fell into arguing who would room with who. The guys, of course, didn't wholeheartedly agree with not sharing a room with any of the girls, but none of the girls, except for Shawnessy, wanted Mortimer anywhere near them. Finally, in her annoyance and anger, Shawnessy stood up and shouted above everyone, "All ya'll shyuddup!" Everyone quieted down and stared at the fox mutant. "Aiight, here's th' deal, ya'll: Remy an' Beau, you got 5-1-2. Mortimer an' me'll take 5-1-3. Matilda an' KT get 5-1-1. Jean, you an' Lex'll have 5-1-0. That leaves 5-0-9 t' Sar an' Katie. Happy na'?"  
  
"Non," said Beau bluntly.  
  
"O' course you ain't. Deal."  
  
"Aww, how cute," Matilda cooed in a mocking tone. "Shawnessy, your little fuck puppy is gonna be lonely." The girls, save for Jean, burst out laughing, and Shawnessy very nearly smacked the nearest person, who happened to be KT. She glared at Sar, who took it as a cue to harangue Matilda.  
  
"Weedily-wee!"  
  
That being an inside joke, Jean, Beau, Remy, and Mortimer stared at Sar like she had lost her mind. Everyone else got it, though. Now thoroughly pissed off at being made fun of, Matilda smacked Sar.  
  
Everything was an inside joke with the Avon girls, and generally, the jokes made no sense to anyone except them, but were still funny and stupid enough to get anybody to laugh.  
  
With everything more-or-less settled, the luggage and assorted cellular phones were put into their respective rooms, and Shawnessy and her gang headed out to terrorize locals, spend at least a hundred dollars, and generally cause mayhem and discord. Ah, sweet chaos.  
  
Fall had already set in, and winter was coming fast. The city was cold and cheerless, and the many rows of skyscrapers made for one giant wind tunnel through which blew an icy, northeasterly gust, and made Shawnessy wish for the flat fields and farmhouses of Indiana. She found beaches interesting, mountains striking, and massive cities awe-inspiring. But, when she really got to thinking about it, she found that her home was by far the most beautiful. Home was mile after mile of corn and soybeans; old, graying farmhouses with an old dog laying on the front porch, fast asleep in the summer's midday heat; a small town that was no more than eight miles from east end to west end; the thud and shriek of the nearby trainyard; and what came to mind most often, was her grandparents old log cabin with the giant two-story garage and the miniature apple orchard in the backyard. That was Shawnessy's home, and, looking at the ominous black and gunmetal gray skyscrapers, of which there were few in Indianapolis, she finally saw what everyone in her family saw: that Indiana was more than just corn and Baptist churches.  
  
"Y'know," she said to Matilda and Mortimer as they trailed behind Beau and Remy and Jean, "ev'ry time I leave Indiana, I realize just how much I love that worthless place! I mean, we sit through gym class talkin' about how we gonna leave home fer somethin' better, like Seattle, but d' we ever act'ally notice just what we'r' sayin'?"  
  
"You're wrong there," argued Matilda. "We'll never have a life in that Godforsaken hell. There's better places out there."  
  
"T' tell th' truth, if I ever leave home, I'd prolly go somewheres like Ohio--" Shawnessy stopped, rethinking that decision. 'No,' she thought ruefully, 'to much was lost there. Things that are gone, and ain't never coming back.' She fought to keep back the tears as she remembered her aunt, laying weak and sick in that hospital bed. Remembering that day her mother told her there was nothing more the doctors could do. She had tried to hide from that feeling of cold sadness. Had tried to ignore everything.  
  
--Flashback--  
  
"She's gonna live, dammit!" Shawnessy screamed at the darkened room. "Ain't no one 'r nothin' gonna take 'er away from me! YOU HEAR ME!? Yer lettin' her die, ain't you? Damn you! If you really existed, she would be gettin' better! And she'd come home for Christmas, just like I been askin'! SHE'LL COME HOME! AND AIN'T NO ^GOD^ GONNA SAY OTHERWISE! TO HELL WITH YOU!"  
  
No one answered. Nothing. Just silence.  
  
-Fast-forward Two Months-  
  
Shawnessy's aunt had been getting worse and worse. The cancer continued to drain away her strength. . . and her will to live. Shawnessy had come to fear the sight of her father's name on the Caller ID. She knew that if he ^did^ call, it would be all over. That day had come. The phone rang once. . . twice. . . three times. Shawnessy never let it ring more than once. She didn't want to hear whatever it was her father had to say. But she had to know.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Brittany?"  
  
"Yeah." Shawnessy sat down on the recliner and curled up as best she could without pressing any of the buttons on the phone.  
  
"I--I have bad--news." Her father's voice was jerky, and wavering. She'd never heard her dad cry before. It was horrible.  
  
"No don--"  
  
"It's your aunt. She. . . she died--last night. I--" Shawnessy never heard what he had to say. The phone slid from her hand and bounced a couple times on the cushion. She didn't pick it back up. She just stared blankly out the sliding glass door.  
  
'No. She's not dead, Dad. She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Get her on the phone. I want to talk to her. Get the nurse to wake her up!' But she wasn't sleeping. She had lost all will to live. Too long. No good news. Her spirit had been broken, and she had just given up. No more fighting. No more pain. Everything would be all right.  
  
Shawnessy hung the phone up, almost as if she were asleep herself. Then, like somebody had flipped a switch, Shawnessy screamed out, "GOD BE DAMNED!! SHE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HAD ONLY LISTENED. . . IF YOU HAD LISTENED TO ME LIKE YOU SHOULD'VE, SHE'D WAKE UP AND CALL. 'IT'S GONNA BE OKAY, BRITT. AND GUESS WHAT? I'M COMIN' HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!' BUT NO! YOU IGNORED ME. JUST LIKE ALWAYS! AND NOW. . . ^NOW SHE'S DEAD 'CAUSE O' YOU^!"  
  
After that day, there was no God in Shawnessy's life. There was nothing. Her faith, her happiness, her own spirit had died right along with her aunt.  
  
But she kept telling herself, as she'd cry herself to sleep, "She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Tell her to wake up. I want to talk to her. Please, Dad, wake her up. . ."  
  
--End Flashback--  
  
"No," Shawnessy said slowly. "Not Ohio. Not ever Ohio."  
  
Matilda and Mortimer knew, and they knew better than to say anything. It wasn't worth trying to change Shawnessy's mind about it. Shawnessy knew her aunt was dead, somewhere in her deep subconscious. But, over the past ten months, since her aunt's death, she had begun to believe her mantra. Her aunt was just sleeping, and someday, she'd wake up and come home, telling Shawnessy to pack her bags, 'cause they were finally taking that trip to Europe that promised so long ago. She was just sleeping. . .  
  
For the next hour, Shawnessy was beyond the living world. She had turned inward, to a place where her aunt still lived, her parents were still alive, and her family hadn't deserted her. In truth, she didn't miss her family. Most of them she had never been very close to anyways. And when she lost her parents. . . it was sudden, and hadn't hurt so much as her aunt's death. But when she lost her aunt, she lost not only her most favorite and most beloved family member, but her best and closest friend. She had lost her whole world, her whole purpose. Her mentor was gone, no longer there to teach her life's lessons in that strange way that she did. Gone. That word hurt more than anything in Shawnessy's life ever had, physically, mentally, or emotionally. There was no maybe to it. No but's to if's. It just was. "Gone" was final, no way to change it, no way to fix it, no way to make it better. Everything gone. Oh God. Why? But everything would be all right. Wouldn't it?  
  
After the loss of practically everything, Shawnessy had been picked up by Leo Kasch and his Angels. Without anyone around to tell her what to do and what not to do anymore, Shawnessy lived her dream. She became a thief, or pirate as she preferred to be called. She became what she always wanted to be, but was never allowed to be. And she found someone to love, who would love her back. Her relationship with Beau lasted for a short while. It gave her a thrill. Her parents would have never let her even talk to a man like Beau, let alone share a bed with him! There was a certain risk involved, and in some strange, perverted way, Shawnessy enjoyed it.  
  
And everything would be all right.  
  
No.  
  
Never "all right."  
  
Everything would ^never^ be "all right."  
  
Everything was ^gone^.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
That was depressing. But truthful. Shawnessy is, essentially, me. Not all of it is true. My aunt is still alive. . . barely. I'm slowly losing her, and I know it. But she'll be okay. She'll come home for Christmas, and everything will be all right. 


End file.
